


…Isenóre… (Mine)

by zeesmuse



Series: ...His... Mine... and Ours [2]
Category: Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-24
Updated: 2012-05-30
Packaged: 2017-11-05 22:24:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/411650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zeesmuse/pseuds/zeesmuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eomer King receives news he is unprepared to hear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

__

…Isenóre… 

__

(Mine) 

Title: … Isenóre… (mine)  
Series: His, Mine, and Ours.  
Sequel to: …His…  
Author: Zee  
Fandom: Tolkien  
Genre: FCHet  
Characters: Éomer, Gamling  
Rating: PG  
Disclaimer: NOT MINE! I promise to give them back when I’ve wrung them out well and there is nothing left but the bones.  
Timeline: 7 years after the war  
Setting: Rohan. Takes place approximately five months before the last chapter of …His…  
Beta: Alex  
Author’s Notes: A companion piece to …His…

 

Spring

It was a long, two moons and while my heart sung at the sight of Meduseld and the thought of sleeping in my own bed that eve, my very soul dreaded the upcoming report I would be forced to give my king. Whether he blamed me for the ill-timed news was simply beside the point. It was information I should have been aware of sooner; much sooner and the mere thought that it went on unchecked and left to grow on its own brought at the very least sorrow to my liege and created a situation that was best to be left alone.

My men were joking, their mood lightened. They spoke of their wives, their girlfriends. Several talked of spending hard earned pay at the brothel. More times than I cared to count, I enjoyed the sweet, feminine touch of a compensated woman, but as I aged, I disliked paying for someone who massaged my muscles and other things because I paid them to. Such release was fleeting. After seeing the heartache my lord and the young Wudurose went through years ago and knowing the heartache I was going to be forced to put Éomer through now over six years later, I again decided that love was for fools and young men and it was not a step I desired to take.

Some long hours later, after I had fed and stabled my horse, I headed to the Great Hall for a bite to eat and gave Éomer King my report. The guard at the front doors nodded in deference to me. Many times, I had been offered a spot in Meduseld as the King’s personal guard, as I was the captain of the former King’s guard and just as many times I declined because I was the only one who could give the current King the news I was about to give him. He knew and understood this and compensated me well, but that day, I wished it were different.

I sought him out the moment I arrived. I prayed he was alone, but that was not meant to be. His young queen sat with him, causing him to laugh, the echo ringing throughout the hall. Regardless of the fact the marriage was arranged for political purposes, it was obvious to all that the queen adored Éomer and doted on him and it was clear he returned those feelings.

But there was a part of his heart that he guarded and guarded deep and he did not discuss the woman that held that dear, well-hidden spot and I was getting ready to snatch that piece and bring it to the surface.

Éomer saw me and if his smile could get brighter, it did. He motioned me over, calling me by name. “Gamling!” he called out, his smile infectious. “You are here just in time!”

I made my way to the dais. I bowed to both, taking extra care to smile at the queen. “We have wondrous news, Gamling,” she added softly. Her lilting Belfalian accent made our language sound exotic and gave it an odd cadence. She beamed at her husband before continuing. “We are expecting another child.”

I forced myself to smile fuller, harder and congratulated both. The young heir was coming on his second summer. I was happy for them; Éomer took great joy in his son, openly being the indulgent father. “When should we expect the newest prince or princess?”

“Late summer,” Éomer King responded. “Another boy would be welcome, but I would be happy with a girl.” He picked up his wife’s hand and kissed the knuckles. “A little girl with her mother’s eyes.” Lothiriel blushed and dipped her head, before Éomer turned his attention back to me. “So tell me, old man, what news of the Riddermark?”

My heart rose in my throat. It was all I could do to keep my smile from dropping. It was the code we developed long ago, a code created when I began to go into the east several times a year. Truthfully, I could keep the news from him, answer that all was well and this duty would be past me until the next time I went into the Eastenmet. Try as I wanted to, I could not lie to him time after time after time.

But he wanted to know, made it clear each time he sent me and each time I came back, so I answered with the phrase we agreed on so long ago, when she ran and I tracked her through the end of a hard winter. A phrase to let him know we needed to talk, and we needed to talk away from prying ears and eyes. “Old man? I could beat your arse in a race tomorrow without thinking twice, youngling.”

Lothiriel threw back her head laughing, not realizing her husband’s unoccupied hand clutched the chair arm for a moment and his smile drooped a bit. He quickly regained it. “Tomorrow then? Or are you too tired?”

Truth be told, I was exhausted. I needed hot food, a hot bath, and a bed where no evening acrobatics were taking place. “After lunch will be fine, sire.”

“Should we send a referee?” The Queen had no idea we were up to and took the jesting in stride. She had quickly learned that the Rohirrim were not as tied to pomp and ceremony as the formal court she was raised in. 

“No,” Éomer grinned. I noticed the smile did not reach his eyes. They suddenly took on a haunted sadness. “We have raced many times and neither one of us has reason to cheat. We have no cause to.” His answering dip was minimal, as it should be. “I will meet you in the Royal Stable to saddle up after lunch. We will discuss your report while we are out.” With that, I was dismissed.

As I sat at the table, eating from the trencher served to me, I could feel the heated stare from the king. I doubt he slept that night.

~~~…~~~

tbc


	2. Chapter 2

****

…Isenóre… 

****

(Mine) 

****

Chapter 02 

I remember clearly it was a fine day to ride. The air was crisp, but the winter chill was gone and the promise of summer was on the air. We leisurely walked our horses after we tore from Meduseld, much to the amusement of the gate guards and the Queen and her ladies. They insisted on tying on favors and cheering us. We had participated in this game before - the King’s éored was used to it, as was the queen, but never had I used the system set up so carefully. At least there were no questions and no one insisted on joining us. So once we were long out of sight of the city, we would stop and walk discussing things best kept secret. 

“All is well in the east?” Although no one was within leagues, Éomer’s voice was quiet. 

“Aye.” My answer was short. Not the answer he was expecting.

We walked a few more yards. “She is well?”

She. That’s what he named her, called her. It was if he was terrified that if he said her name aloud, she would materialize from the air.

“Best I can tell.”

The wind whipped our horses’ manes and tails, the long horsetail of Éomer’s helmet thrashing about wildly. The breeze matched my mood and my horse sensed it. The King waited until the wind died down to continue. “She has found someone?” It was hopefully asked.

“No.”

Éomer’s shoulders drooped, his earlier, temporary happiness evaporating. “I have ruined her, destroyed her life.” He shook his head once. 

“Sire, you cannot blame yourself.”

“Yes, I can!” He shook an accusatory finger at me. “If anyone deserves happiness in this world, it is my wild briar rose.” He did not appear to realize his slip. For a time, the very air between us was charged, the electricity almost violent.

Truthfully, I was shocked he still referred to her, thought of her as such. _His. Mine._ The rare times he discussed her, it was She. That he called her by the beloved pet name he used so many times, so many years ago, told me she laid much closer to his inner heart than I even suspected. This was going to be much harder than I feared.

“No,” I continued quietly, trying my best to appear completely unbothered by my sovereign’s outburst “you cannot. You had no idea what the world would bring when you aided her in repairing her home.” Éomer’s furious glare was heated and if his eyes truly shot the flame in them, I would be burnt to a cinder crisp. “No one can foretell what the heart will do.”

Éomer looked off, far off into the distance. “I should have stayed away that Yule night. I should have left her in peace.”

“But you did not and that brings us to the problem at hand.”

Éomer’s head jerked. “Something is wrong?”

I sighed. This was going to be so very difficult. “No. Nothing is wrong. There is a problem.”

“And the problem is?”

I hesitated and this upset him. Patience was something Éomer always struggled with, continuing for years after he became king. This was not going to be easy. “There is a child.”

Éomer stared me. “Say again?” His voice was hoarse, a whisper.

“There is a child,” I repeated clearly.

“She has had a baby?”

“Yes.” 

Éomer had the good sense to look confused. “But you said she had not found any one.”

Considering the look he gave me, I must have seemed as if to ponder a great mystery. “The child was born the summer after she left Aldburg.” 

Éomer blinked. Twice. “She was pregnant when she left.”

“It appears so.”

Éomer was filled with apparent self-loathing. “The child?”

“A boy. There is no doubt he is yours. Anyone who knows you and saw him would make the connection, see the resemblance.” 

He did not stop to ponder, to think. “He is healthy?”

“Extremely.”

It didn’t seem Éomer was breathing. Finally, “Wait here.” With that Éomer rode off a ways, before stopping. He jumped from his horse, throwing the reins over the pommel and then threw his helmet into the dirt. Apparently that wasn’t enough, because then he went and kicked it. He kicked it several times, in fact. Even from the distance, I could see the tenseness, the anger exploding from my king’s body. After several minutes of kicking his headgear in the dust, Éomer retrieved it and motioned for me to join him. I took my time.

“Tell me.” His teeth were gritted together, his words forced from between them. He made much of brushing the dirt from the metal and horsetail. “Tell me how this happened and you did not know for seven summers,” his voice rose in fury, “that I have a son out in the far reaches of the Eastenmet!”

There was a stream and a few trees nearby, so I nodded towards it. I dismounted and began to lead my horse to it, knowing Éomer was beside me. “Over the years, I have taken great pains to not be seen by Wudurose.”

“I do not wish for her to run again.” Éomer had made this clear several times in the past.

“And I have no desire to track her again, but I would at your command.” We arrived at the stream and my stallion made a beeline towards it. I loosely tied the reins around the pommel of the saddle. Many times, I suggested he let her go, truly set her free and the thought to suggest that again crossed my mind, but with the newest revelation, I realized that would never happen. He had always refused in the past and now…

“I would command it. You know that.” Firefoot joined my horse and Éomer withdrew two flasks from his belt, offering me one. We sat against a tree, able to see the horses and the surrounding countryside. His knee bounced erratically, an obvious sign of his current state of mind. “How did you find out about my son?”

I noted with trepidation his automatic acceptance of the boy. I told him of circling the town, as I always did. It was mid-sized with several shops and a blacksmith. Commerce trading took place in a farmer’s stall setting and there was a thriving pub that served a hearty fare that my men and I enjoyed many times. Several times, I had traveled through with a contingent of riders, asking the blacksmith, who appeared to be the headman, of any irregularities, how the townspeople and surrounding farms fared, their needs. He knew his settlement, its citizens well, and a few times, he mentioned Wudurose by name; especially that he worried of her being a single, widowed woman alone out on her homestead. Her child was never mentioned.

This last trip, however, rather than ride through, as we did in the past, Ceorl’s horse threw a shoe and mine developed a stone bruise. Fixing Ceorl’s shoe was not a problem, but mine had to rest several days. It left me in an awkward position.

“I did what I would normally do in that situation,” I told the king. “I sent my group of Riders on, telling them to continue the inspection of the countryside and the next group of settlements on our rotation and then to return for me in a week.”

Éomer nodded. “So, what happened?”

“The blacksmith – Tondhere – was kind enough to loan me a mount – an irascible nag who would just soon take a bite from my leg, rather than eat his feed.” I took a swig of the flask Éomer handed me and immediately shuddered, much to my sovereign’s strange delight. I knew better than to comment or complain. “I suspect the loan was to ensure I would not ride off with the worthless piece of horseflesh. I scouted the countryside, attempting not to put my nose in places where people would remember me. I was lucky and caught Wudurose out in her fields when I surveyed her home.”

Éomer was not truly drinking; he had a far away look in his eye. “You got a closer look?”

“Aye. The homestead is well tended. The dwelling is sturdy, well built, bigger than her cottage in Aldburg.” My king nodded, obviously pleased that the abode was in good condition and that she was able to afford to keep it that way. “The barn has recently been enlarged; she has plenty of farm stock. No horses however, save for Fléotigu.”

“No horses?”

“None.”

Éomer snorted. “We will see about that.” He motioned with his hand. “Continue.”

I told him of returning to the small town, passing time, gleaning information as possible. I did not tell him of going to the river to fish and enjoying the several days of downtime. Getting an off-day was bliss. Getting the extremely rare several days off must be like riding in the Halls of our Fathers! I discovered that Wudurose was known to hire young adults, preferring those in need of work for their family, young marrieds or those planning to marry. She had a reputation of being kind – Éomer nodded along enthusiastically – and generous. 

“When did you see my son? Find out about him?” He was obviously becoming impatient and the sun was moving faster than I would like across the sky. 

“Apparently, a young woman watches her son while she works in her fields. Acha came into town with her younger siblings and Edric.”

“Edric? She named him Edric?” He smiled. “Edric. That is a fine name.” I watched him swell with pride, much as he had when Elfwine was born.

“The girl was buying bone needles and I commented on how one so young could have so many little ones at her skirts. She laughed at me.” I tried to sound affronted as such behavior, but I remember quite well the wholesomeness of her face and figure. Had I been twenty… twenty-five summers younger, I would have entertained thoughts a bit more lively. “She told me that all but one were her siblings and the other,” I stopped to look at Éomer, “belonged to her neighbor, Wudurose.”

“The girl named her?”

“Aye. And I had no problem figuring out which child was hers.” I took another swallow of the burning liquid, hoping it would quell the nervousness in my voice. “I remember well when you were younger and still in Aldburg. You drove the household insane with your antics. Into everything.”

“I was not that bad,” he whispered. This was killing him, I could tell.

“You were wretched. Thank Béma you grew up!” I waited a moment, before continuing. “He is your guts, sire, both in looks and temperament. He is a joyous, happy child. Well behaved.”

“If he is well behaved, he is not my guts.” It was an attempt to be jovial. I hurt for my king. He was not only my lord, my ruler; he was my friend. But I was pledged to do his bidding, no questions asked, to lay down my life at his command.

“One of the children got in to something and I made haste to hide in the room I rented at the Inn until she left. I did not want… embarrassing questions. Luckily, it began to rain and my Riders returned two days later, so we left town with little commotion.” I could see the muscle in Éomer’s jaw working at a nervous tic. 

“I need to see her.”

“No, sire.”

I was pinned with a look that terrified me to my boots. It took every ounce of courage to keep from groveling. “I _need_ to see her. I _want_ to see her!”

“No, sire. You must not.”

“Gamling!” He shot to his feet. “She must think I have abandoned her, left her and Edric to fend for themselves!”

I got up slowly, dusting the dirt from the seat of my pants. “Éomer, she ran. She ran I suspect to hide this from you, to hide this from everyone. She sold her home and farmland and relocated so that no one would know, to get a fresh, new start. She left suddenly, with no notice. I cannot imagine how desperate she must have been.” The time had come to be harsh and I hated it. “Your feelings for her are still raw, even after all these years.” He drew up, shocked either from my rebuke or the fact I voiced it at all, I did not know. “How long has it been since you drank with your men? You cannot because you fear you will talk. Most men, kings, would have walked away, but you refused and now you cannot walk away because she has something precious.” His look was mutinous so I squelched the human part of me and went for the merciless kill. “Do you not love your queen even a little?” That worked. “How would she feel if she thought for a moment, you still loved or had feelings for another?”

“I love Lothiriel, you know I do, it is simp-“

“Wudurose still holds a piece of your heart,” I finished for him quietly. “There is a part of you, deep down, before the world changed, when you had choices and she was your choice.” I remember shaking my head sadly. “The heart does not consider political responsibility and it is always what hurts the most.” I went around him and retrieved my beast. “I too, have such a one in my past… if I could go back, do things differently, I would. I cannot. So I dream at night. But,” I stopped him before he could respond, “I do not have a beautiful wife who loves me, to ease my pain.”

We both mounted up and turned to return to Edoras. “Gamling, I cannot do nothing,” Éomer was chewing on a bone and I knew him well. He would gnaw on it until he figured out the solution. “Edric is my son, just as much as Elfwine is.”

“He is also your bastard. Openly acknowledged bastards often wish they were not acknowledged.” I wanted to thrash myself for saying it.

I watched as Éomer’s hands and jaw clenched tightly. I wondered if I would be returning to Edoras beaten black and blue or hanging over the saddle of my horse. After measuring his words, he spat, “It is unfair that she carry the burden of raising him on her own with no aid. We will think on this. There must be some way. Some way to help her. ”

With that, he galloped off, leaving me in his angry dust.

~*~ 

_tbc_

~*~ 


	3. Chapter 3

_**Chapter 03**_

Over the spring and summer that year, Éomer King spent much time with advisors, locked in his study. He poured over maps, maps of Rohan, maps of the Westmark, the Eastmark. But mostly, he poured over the maps and the parcels of the Eastenmet. Oftentimes, I was called to aid him; he looked for the lands owned by the Royal family, his father’s family, lands that had been left fallow, long forgotten. He looked for ways to work it, use it, sell it if necessary. More than once, I joined him on short trips to Aldburg, to go through his family records, Éomund’s accounts. As the Queen’s pregnancy advanced, he was more and more loathe to go out, to leave her for long periods of time and I was sent to retrieve dusty documents. As predicted, she gave birth late in the summer, just before harvest, to a healthy, robust baby boy who looked more like his father than his sibling.

I was due to return to a long patrol to the East during harvest and was checking and packing my gear the morning before I was to leave when Éomer King knocked at the door of my small, one-room quarters. “Old man,” he began jovially, “how about a race before you leave?” He carried what appeared to be a lunch rucksack and several flasks of wine. 

Considering I was heading to the Eastenmet, I countered, “I would prefer we go for a long walk and see how well our horses fare with two drunken riders.” 

He laughed uproariously, before taking in my sparse and unadorned room. “You need larger quarters.” He nodded at the narrow cot. “Or at the very least, a wider bed.”

Sensing something was a-foot, I grabbed my small saddle pouch. “I have no need for more. This suits me fine.”

We made no rush for the outer road and soon ventured off the path, wandering apparently aimlessly. Rather, we made for the creek out of everyone’s way. Making sure we were alone, we dismounted, enjoyed a repast of lamb and freshly baked bread with herbed butter and new wine. I could have easily fallen asleep in the afternoon sun, but Éomer got up and began digging deeper into his saddlebags. I heard the clinking of coins. 

“When you arrive in the Eastenmet, you will approach Wudurose privately.” He pulled out a rather sizable pouch, heavy with silver.

“Do you think that is wise?”

“You will do it.” His voice brooked no argument. “There is a large parcel of land that borders hers on the southwest, good farmland, good for grazing horses and cattle.” He handed me the purse. It _was_ heavy, indeed. “It is easily three times the size of her property and is connected to hers for a good ways. It will be simple for her to access.” 

“Sire, there is more than enough-“

He lifted his hand to stop me. “I have signed the land grant over to you for your service to the Crown. Truthfully, I am gifting you with more for your… service to the crown, however _this_ particular piece you are to sell-“ and he nodded to the leather bag in my hand, “to her.”

What he was doing hit me. “I am to give her the money to buy the land from me?”

“Yes. There is more than enough there. Include in the deal the sale of a young stallion and several young mares. The Eastenmet does not need cavalry horses, they need work horses, therefore I will send her Taynors.” I nodded in understanding. Westfold Taynors were the most powerful horses the Rohirrim bred. Heavy plow and work horses that pulled weighty carts, farm equipment, and military wagons. “My herd in Aldburg is quite large and when you return, you and I will choose several for you to take to her during the first winter moon. Legalize the sale in front of their headman.” He dipped his head, looking off. “Make sure she gets the money back quietly, later.”

I tried again. “You are giving her the money to purchase that which you would gift her?”

He stared at me hard. “If you or I walked onto her homestead and simply gave her that property and several horses, tongues would wag. If she purchases it or openly makes plans to add to her herd, no one will comment much.” He lifted his head defiantly. “As you said, most bastards prefer not to be acknowledged and I would prefer Wudurose and Edric be protected from as much spite as possible.”

“So I am to give her the money and warn her that the property will be sold to her as well as several horses.” I nodded in deference. “As you wish.”

“As I command.” My eyebrows rose at the terse response. “You will also tell her she is not to run. You will track her under my order and she will not like it, nor will she like the consequences.” With that his angered expression softened. “She is safe where she is now, she need not fear me. She never need fear me.” With this, his shoulders and expression completely drooped. “I will worry less if I know where she and my son are with the knowledge they are taken care of and safe.” He then dug under his tunic and pulled a frayed, aged cord from his neck, which he handed to me. I recognized the mark he wore before he was made king, the mark of his father’s house, given to him by his mother. “She will be familiar with this. Give it to her. If anything happens, anything goes wrong, if she or my son need aid in any way, that,” he nodded to the necklace I now held in my hand, “is to be sent to you or to me in Edoras. Neither she nor Edric are to go without.”

I was dumb-founded by all of it. Truly, I expected a small bag of coins for her, but this gift was beyond belief. The property alone would make her an extremely wealthy woman. “Is this all, Éomer King?”

He was now remounting his horse, not looking at me. He was distant and I knew his thoughts and heart were not in the little dale with me. “Tell her at times… to expect more. She is to expect and accept it. Edric is mine and I will not deny him or see him or his mother without.” He looked over his shoulder at me, sorrow etching his features. “I wish she would find someone, someone who loved her deeply and would give her more children, who would be the father I cannot be to Edric. I would be happy for her. She deserves it.” He then settled back and picked up his reins. “Tell her I am sorry. I am sorry she birthed him alone, I am sorry I did not know until now, I am sorry she felt she had to run. I am so deeply, deeply sorry. I wish it could be different.”

With that, he trotted off, leaving me to shatter another’s world and pick up the pieces.

I prayed to Béma I could do it.

 

_Fini_

_Begun and finished 05/12/2012_

_A/N – Initially, this fic was to be called ‘Min’ – or ‘Mine’ (belonging to) in Olde English, which is the language I normally translate to for the Rohirrim, however, I decided on a play on words (Something Thanwen caught) as Isenóre translates to being an Iron Quarry, or an Iron Mine. I was referring to what Gamling had to strive for, dig for literally an iron will, an iron core and backbone to deal with Éomer when he realized he had a son by Wudurose. Not an easy task for a subordinate or subject to a king. Believe me, he will be well rewarded for his efforts._

_The third (and hopefully final) installment – Úreu (Ours) will begin in a few days._


End file.
